The faint scent of latex and fresh earth clung to the air as Jacinta made her way through the busy Western district. What had once been a sleepy edge of the city now pulsed with energy. Dozens of young workers hauled crates of Sharinga sap, while merchants haggled for barrels outside new workshops. Signs were being painted, chimneys puffed smoke, and children ran through the streets with stained fingers—many of them trying to catch a glimpse of the woman who started it all.
Jacinta adjusted the collar of her coat and stepped around a puddle of sap. She had come to inspect progress, yes, but more importantly—to meet the man who had taken her rudimentary sketches and turned them into something tangible.
